


ghostin'

by jewelsofnight



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Christmas, Fluff and Angst, In a way, M/M, breakup and makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28179849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelsofnight/pseuds/jewelsofnight
Summary: His tone turned mocking. "What do you think a man can do in five years, to get past that?"Neil looked directly at him this time, not backing down. "We do whatever we can to survive in that time. You weren't the only one, Andrew. I didn't actually leave by choice."--Neil Josten is a singer with two jobs, trying to make ends meet for another miserable winter. But every plan he has is turned upside down when he's unexpectedly reunited with a love from the past who wants answers for his lies. He may not believe in fate, but he thinks he may believe in the choices 'yes or no', and that family is not always chosen but sometimes found.
Relationships: Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game), Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 32
Kudos: 112
Collections: AFTG Exchange Winter 2020





	1. PART I: he comes to see me in my dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Willow_bird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willow_bird/gifts).



> This is my winter exchange piece! I'm sorry for the delay, but I hope you enjoy this. I tried to hit on the holiday feels of this as best as I could, and I really hope I meet the mark. Thank you for reading 💛
> 
> P.S: I changed the plot and rewrote this whole thing, and this version is unbeta'd. If you notice any continuity errors or plot holes, I am so sorry! Please let me know.
> 
> a little moodboard for the fic [here](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3fd6e7d27c29edd5472ced81a2741cc5/fee02efd76d27920-5a/s2048x3072/ffc83e1d25fcb9a7ef5343a2f1d431e92679b6d2.jpg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> background: no moriyamas, Neil's father is still the Butcher but not under the Moriyamas. Kevin still ended up knowing the rest of the Foxes despite playing for the Ravens because he and Wymack have a real father-son relationship, and the Ravens were not abusive in this AU. Neil was 17 when his father found him, Andrew 18.

Neil runs his fingers over his lapel and cuffs, testing the edges. The familiar motion and the knowledge that his scars were covered and not peeking out anywhere somewhat lessened the nausea rolling through him. He repeated it once more, this time pleased to find his fingers were steadier in tracing their path.

The first show of the holiday season was always the worst, and this one was certainly an exception in that it was worse than all the ones he'd done before. Somehow, his name had gotten around to other people, big names who threw money at glamorous, over-the-top venues every other week. Every part of him had recoiled and rejected the idea of singing at one of Allison Reynold's extravagant parties, but the paycheck was good. Beyond good.

He thought of the broken heating system in his dusty old apartment, the way it was faced towards other buildings in a way that meant he barely got sunlight. He imagined stretching out in a bigger, brighter apartment where he didn't wake up with frozen toes and King didn't have to shiver in bed next to him. Yes, he thought, that was beyond good.

While he waited for the jazz band to finish, he busied his mind. Friday, the 6th of November, 2020. Later he needed to buy more cat food for King, and he had laundry to finish. He counted up to 100 in German, and then backwards in French. He was at 26 when the piano finally slowed, ended on a tinkling, shimmering note, and then silence dropped around them. The polite applause ended, and then it was time to go.

A charming smile slid easily on his face, and he entered the little dais without fanfare, introduced himself and scanned the crowd for any danger, and then started with something slow that would lose their attention with time, something pleasant to fill the background with. His fingers were quick over the piano, his voice mellow and smooth, his attitude easy and fluid.

Being a nobody and a nothing for years had done a number on him, but weirdly enough the professionalism of being a hired singer for formal events let him fade into the background. The people enjoyed him while he was there and then forgot about him, like a pleasant wind on a spring day. Just passing through. Some people contemplated it, most people let it ruffle them and then moved on.

– At least, that's how it should have gone.

Neil knows he's screwed when Reynolds gets up on stage during an interlude and starts talking. She brings up her wife, a fact Neil gets over quickly when he realises her wife is Renee Walker, starting goalie of the Panthers, former Palmetto State Fox. He realises quickly that this is an Exy star-studded event, and now that he's looking he can pick out Matt Boyd and Dan Wilds too. He doesn't even get a chance to prepare himself for Kevin Day possibly turning up when he sees a familiar blond head and bored stare trained on him that makes his stomach drop down to his toes.

One second he's looking into focused hazel eyes, and the next he's facing endless corridors that he wishes would swallow him up. There are waitstaff here and there, and they all ignore him as runs through the halls. He makes it all the way outside to the back where there's a chilly, exposed garden, and he's alone for only a few seconds before he hears steady footfalls that could clearly keep up with him.

He turns, just as a hard body slams him down into one of the chilly metal chairs.

There are a million racing thoughts in his head, all begging to be picked and opened up, but he loses hold of each one the more he tries to focus. Everything slips his grasp, everything – the coldness of the chair, the bite of the wind, the screaming in his head to _run run run_. It's just hazel and blonde and the condensed puff of Andrew's breath in front of him.

"Andrew," he breathes out, helpless. That name hasn't been on his tongue in a long time. "Andrew, I'm sorry –”

"Shut up," he grits out, the hand that's not holding his collar raised back in a fist.

He knows there are years between that time when they were younger and Andrew’s baseline was so fucked that he almost couldn't handle more than one emotion on a good day, and most times a smouldering anger at that. But all those empty years between them stretched like taffy, and Neil knew all Andrew saw when he looked at him were shifty eyes and a mouth that lied enough to leave damage in its wake. It was once his brand, to leave a wreck wherever he went, because he could never stay away from things the way his mom wanted him to, and he could never give himself over to them the way he wanted to.

If Andrew hit him, he deserved it. But – 

"Yes or no?" Neil whispered, lifting two hands to hover above the hand on his collar.

"No."

He pushed away, and Neil tried not to feel scared, like everything was slipping again. Shame and guilt surged up like a tin can he'd forced shut coming open.

"Just to talk," he clarified. "I can tell you the truth."

Andrew smoothed his sleeves out, then shoved a hand in his pocket to rummage for a cigarette and a light. His hands shook, and he flexed his fingers like it could stay the anger and fear. Once he had one lit, he spoke.

" _You._ What makes you think your truth is worth anything anymore? What makes you sure I didn't come here to slit your throat for what you did?"

Neil swallowed, hands going up to touch his own collarbone. "Nothing –” he closed his eyes "– Nothing."

That's what they had shared. _Nothing_. And it had been beautiful, before Lola came tearing into town with her claws and her knives and brought him screaming and kicking to his father. Their huge _nothing_ had left a hole inside of him he could never seem to fix, something only time could fill with sand until he forgot it was even there. But he never did. He saw Andrew all the time on the news and in an old, faded picture of him in his old backpack. He saw him in his head and hoped Andrew saw him too.

"You were nothing," Andrew said, sounding far away. He slid his gaze back to look him up and down, something in his eyes like a question or a desperate, foolish hope. If he was anything like he used to be, he would be trying to piece together parts that didn’t add up anymore. He would be wondering.

Because Neil was still nothing, and Andrew was something. It was painted all over them.

"You can still ask, and the answer is still yes, always," Neil said hoarsely. "I can give you all the truth you want about before. I can't fix what happened when I – _left_. But you deserve to know. I'll give you all my truths for free, the ones I was supposed to tell you before I –” 

Andrew blew his cigarette smoke out aggressively in a puff, something dark on his face. Neil fidgeted and stared at his neat clothes and perfectly styled hair, trying to lay the image over the shaggy teenager he used to be.

"I want to tear you apart for lying. I – " he cursed, searching for words. "I used to think about finding you and making you hurt for it. Used to. It was a child’s anger. I know better now," he said, pointedly. He looked determined, every word laced with anger but still focused as a blade.

"I know better. And if you want to give me what you said you will, you're going to finish this shitty show, and the second you're done, you are coming right to me and we are finishing this. Five years, Neil." His tone turned mocking. "What do you think a man can do in five years, to get past that?"

Neil looked directly at him this time, not backing down. "We do whatever we can to survive in that time. You weren't the only one, Andrew. I didn't actually leave by choice." He pulled his sleeve up as much as he could, and gestured. "Five years can make these scars look softer, less painful and raw. Five years helped me finally, somehow settle somewhere. And now I sing during the holidays for extra cash." He trailed off, voice going quiet. "I have a cat now, too. Five years can be something merciful."

Andrew stared at him, rubbing a thumb across his lip. "No lies now, I want to hear it. All of it."

"You will," Neil promised. "Andrew, I'm not going anywhere again. I'm safe. I just need to finish the show."

"Go," he grunted. Neil's heart pounded. "I don't care about your stupid songs. Meet me in the front, and Abram?"

Neil smiled.

"Don't run."

"I'll be there."

* * *

A crisp night had fallen when he was finished. The lush gardens were lit with small fairy lamps and artful lights in the stonework on the path, and he found Andrew smoking on one of the benches by the carpark when he came out. Light fell around him, illuminating his pale skin and blonde hair against the deep black of his clothes. He looked peaceful and sure.

“Hey,” Neil said, hands in his pockets. When he got no answer, he tried again. “Hey you.”

He stood in front of him, so he would have to look. Andrew met his gaze with his own hooded, dark one.

“Hey,” he replied. He stubbed the cigarette out and fished his keys out of his pocket, waving them in Neil’s face. “Come on.”

It had been years, so Neil didn’t know which car to look for, but he was unsurprised when they approached a sleek black sports car. It looked lethal in the night, gleaming and surrounded by foliage. It was so painfully Andrew that he had to suppress a smile at the sight.

Inside was a plush interior, also all black. He watched Andrew back it out of the parking space and bit his lip when he accelerated out of the car park. He couldn’t pretend it was like the car trips with the GS years ago even if he tried, even if he closed his eyes. It was entirely incongruous and unpredictable. Flashy had been swapped out for grown up and tasteful, expensive for even more luxurious, reckless driving now smooth and too elegant to belong to his younger self. The old version of them was truly gone, a thought that gnawed at his heart just a little.

Neil didn’t know the destination, didn’t know anything except that they were going at a million, racing away from the city. But instead of nervousness, excitement rushed through him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the vision of Andrew in the driver’s seat, close and real, eyes flinty but steady on the road. It was hard to tell whether it was painful or perfect, but it was _real, real, real_ , and nothing else mattered. Andrew glanced at him for just a moment, and his heart clenched.

They stopped somewhere random, where there were lots of trees and fields, the sky open and shining with stars. Neil broke the silence.

“I don’t know where to start.”

Andrew ran a hand through his hair and turned to him in his seat, pulling one leg up. “From the beginning. The day you left.”

“The day I was taken,” Neil corrected. “That’s the first thing, I guess. I never meant to leave you, or hurt you. That was my father and his people.”

“Wesninski,” Andrew said. 

He nodded. It had been all over the news for a week. He reached down for his bag and took out his makeup wipes, rubbing off the base that was still there.

“They gave me these,” he said, gesturing to the burn on his face from the dashboard lighter, and the thin, silvery knife scars that were less visible. “And on my arms. My hands. My legs. If my uncle had been a second later, I don’t think I’d have both my legs intact.”

He shuddered at the thought, a stifled movement, but Andrew still snapped his eyes towards him, taking note of it. His fists clenched and unclenched, eyes on Neil’s arms and legs like he could see through the clothing. 

“But that’s not the full story. You knew something. You told me – Your stupid fucking ‘thank you, you were amazing’. Then you were gone without a trace.”

The hurt in Andrew’s voice was a knife to Neil’s guilty conscience. 

“There was a countdown. 40 days. I didn’t know what it meant, at first.”

“When did you realise?”

“Halfway through,” Neil sighed. “I didn’t know who it was though, or what it was for, Andrew. I promise. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. I was scared, but I didn’t think they were going to take me in my own home.” He trailed off. “I don’t know how I missed it. I didn’t find anything about his early release. I thought he was still in prison.”

Andrew was silent. He was waiting for him to continue.

Neil took a shuddering breath. “So then he was dead, and I was in the FBI’s custody. I spent a year helping them take the rest of his circle apart, otherwise they were going to put me behind bars too for what my mother and I did on the run. Bastards.”

“And then?”

“And then I couldn’t face you. You went to Palmetto, and I faded away. It was supposed to be better that way, but Andrew, I could never forget you. I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

Andrew had been his first real friend, his first love, the only person who could see him as whole and not just the horror that followed him. The only person that could hold him up against his problems.

“Did you look for me?” he whispered, voice thin as a thread.

“Yes,” Andrew said. One word, enough to snap the thread. 

He brought his hand to Neil’s throat, moving slowly, and with permission wrapped it around the back of his neck. Neil lay his own hand over it, eyes sliding shut.

He had feared being forgotten. He had promised himself he wouldn’t be sad if Andrew chose to leave him behind in his memories – because forgetting was not an option for the man with an eidetic memory – but he didn’t know how much that would have destroyed him until he heard this ‘yes’. Relief poured over his aching wounds inside. Unknown to Andrew, he had pushed an old piece of him back into place with that admission. He wasn’t his answer, but he still held pieces of Neil that had been left behind.

When he opened his eyes, Andrew pulled back. He dropped his leg and fell back against his seat, running a hand through his hair while he thought. Neil took the time to take note of his shaking heart and the pulse that was racing through him. 

“That’s enough for tonight,” Andrew said. 

“Do I get to ask you another question?”

“Take another turn tomorrow.”

That threw him for a loop.

“Are you going to meet me again, tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I’ll tell you.”

He tried to hide it, but Andrew still picked up on the confusion in his expression. It might have just been a guess, but he zeroed in on the train of thought in Neil’s head quickly. 

“Can I reach you on your phone? Tell me you own one now so I don’t have to wring your neck.”

That shut him up. He was still notoriously bad at keeping it charged and answering his messages – not that he really had any. He still nodded, knowing he would keep it on if Andrew was going to call.

He started the car again and led them back around, and this time Neil did close his eyes, feeling everything rush up and take its toll on him. He was woken up a short while later when they stopped in traffic, back in the city. He sighed, feeling restless and blurred around the edges. 

Andrew got them to his apartment building with Neil giving him the directions. He didn’t comment on the old building or the odd people milling around it. He just stuck out his hand, demanded Neil’s phone, and texted his own from it. 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said, tossing the phone back. 

Neil made to get out, but hesitated when Andrew made an abortive gesture suddenly, jerking his hand out to catch his wrist and then stopping. It was a vulnerable tell, an action brought upon through fear. But Neil wasn’t going anywhere except home, and as long as Andrew came back to him, they would be fine.

“Sure,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

_Get out, dumbass._ He could hear those words, playing back in his memory. But present-day Andrew said nothing, because telling Neil to go meant something else now.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” Neil said, getting out of the car. He walked into his building and entered the code, and only when the door shut after him did Andrew drive off.


	2. PART II: and then the cold came, the dark days

Neil woke up freezing from head to toe. Now that November was settling in, Columbia was cooling down and unfortunately suffering from an unexpected cold sweep. The heating in his creaky old building was inadequate for the weather, and paired with the fact that his apartment was always in the shadow of other buildings, he was barely staying alive. The only thing keeping him here was his paltry paycheck.

He was working up the courage to poke his head out of the blanket and regretting his entire existence when his phone pinged. It startled him so bad he almost fell off the bed.

"Fuck," he muttered, lifting the covers.

There was a furry head waiting to bump him as soon as he was up, sitting between his pillow and the wall. King complained to him as he stretched and put a hoody on, trailing around his body as she  _ mrrp _ -ed and head butted his legs. Even without the cold or his own immaculate body clock, she would be there to wake him and bother him till he fed her.

He stared at the phone on his bedside table, contemplating it with something like fear. It was Andrew, probably. Nobody really called or messaged him, not even his manager Sara, except for on the rare occasion. He figured he could face it after he got some food inside of him, and some extra heat. Besides, it was just past 7AM. Andrew could wait.

In the kitchen, Neil thawed his fingers over the water boiling on the stove. He stood on one socked foot, the other pressed against his leg, arms crossed and shivering as he stared absently at the blue and white tile. He spent breakfast imagining he was somewhere else, like a fancy penthouse on the top floor of an expensive building, looking out at the city and basking in the morning sun. Silly fantasies, he thought, hissing as he burnt his tongue on his hot tea. King sighed from where she was curled up inside his hoody.

He grabbed his phone from his room and immediately returned to the cocoon of blankets on the sofa. He decided to kill his nervous energy by just taking the plunge and opening the message, figuring he had already put it off enough. Like he suspected, it was from Andrew. His stomach swooped as he opened it, and immediately he frowned at the words. It took a moment to make sense of it. It was an address, and came with a time for today at 1:30pm, signed off with '-A'.

It was an ice skating rink. Neil stared at the image his browser brought up in dumbfounded silence. It spurred him to type a message out and send it, fingers clumsy with cold and inexperience.

_ A date? _

He didn't receive a reply at all.

* * *

At 1:00PM, Neil placed a kiss on King's head and rushed out the door. He'd put on his more decent clothes and a thicker jacket, not expecting it to really be a date but just trying to meet some standards he'd imagined Andrew had set for him. He always used to poke fun at the way he'd dress. Even though he’d improved a lot, he wouldn’t put it past Andrew to still find a way to say something sarcastic.

He arrived early at 1:20PM and immediately he spotted Andrew also there, standing in a thick coat and earmuffs next to a short woman outside of a colourful building. He recognised her as Renee Walker, Allison Reynold's wife and former Fox. Her presence confused him, but so did the whole outing, so he said nothing.

"Hey," he said, waving at both of them.

"Hi, Neil," Renee said. Her voice was warm and full.

Andrew flicked his eyes up and down his form, quirked his lip to the side and simply said, "Let's go inside."

15 minutes later he was wearing a pair of rented skates and teetering on the ice, clutching onto a railing and wondering why they were here. Renee had already skated ahead, moving gracefully over the shimmering, white ice with practiced moves, but Andrew remained. He looked at Neil properly for the first time that day, drinking him in, and then offered his hand.

"Relax," he said in a low, soothing voice. Just the same as before. "Stop tensing up."

Neil tentatively grabbed his hand, shivering despite the warmth of his touch. 

"I can't. Why are we even here? Seriously." His eyes darted around, taking in the people around them.

"Let go of the railing. Good. Just stand still, and then try to take a slow step forward."

"I've never done this before," Neil mumbled, cheeks heating up. He concentrated on taking steps and getting used to the weight on his feet, but instead his mind kept wandering back to the weight of Andrew's hand in his.

"Renee and I consider it a hobby every winter," Andrew shrugged. Neil imagined all the winters they spent apart. He tried to picture Andrew and Renee gliding around on ice and killing time. It was a pretty thought.

"If you can relax and learn to take a few steps, you might not be so bad at this after all."

"Fine, I'm walking, happy? Tell me why we're here now."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Like I said, it's just a hobby. I thought you should come with us, if we're going to try this again."

Neil understood. What Andrew didn't say, but what he meant was that he wanted to spend time with Neil. It wasn't a date or an interrogation, so he forced himself to relax and focus on keeping his feet steady.

He looked up at him again, and found him staring back with a considering gaze. He lifted a thumb to Neil's forehead, right between his brows.

"Still so suspicious of everything," he muttered. The words were tugged up and light, almost teasing. He pulled away a few seconds later, leaving a brief imprint of heat behind.

Neil gaped at him, and then shrugged, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. It wasn't an admonishment, just the truth. He hadn't meant to tense up on Andrew, but he'd woken up with old fears and couldn't shake them off so easily. He pushed that train of thought aside and tried to hold on to the feel of his hand in Andrew's and the sight of Renee spinning and ducking and sliding around. Large windows near the ceiling let the daylight stream in, bathing everything in soft, white light. Giant lights hung from the ceiling at different heights, surrounded by white woven shades like snowflakes.

The more rounds he made with Andrew, no longer hand in hand but still beside each other, the better he got at it. He was even starting to enjoy it, testing his speed and his ability to turn, smirking when Andrew's eyes lingered. He was thinking of what else he could do to keep that hazel gaze trained on him when he glanced sideways and suddenly felt his whirring thoughts slow to a warm buzz. 

Blonde strands had fallen around Andrew's forehead, the wayward pieces framing his face softly. The tip of his nose was red. It stirred up memories of before, images nestled deep in his mind. He had a vision of messier hair and his own unscarred hand moving to push back blonde hair off a heated forehead. His mind flashed between then and now without his control. He swallowed, attempting to keep his gaze forward but failing.

He glanced sideways at Andrew again, and the moment of distraction meant he missed the tall man skating too closely towards him. The man slammed into his side, knocking Neil backwards off balance while he rushed away. His stomach swooped and the ceiling rushed down before his mind caught up but – he wasn't moving.

"Oh," he gasped, blinking up at Andrew.

There was a strong arm around his shoulder, and one clutched around his front holding his side. He was suspended, caught in Andrew's arms.

His face was murderous. He pulled Neil up, arm lingering around him while he searched the throng for the culprit. Renee skated over to join them, fussing over Neil even though he was fine besides being winded. He hadn't even made it near the ground. No. Because Andrew had caught him. Heat spread down his neck while he processed that thought.

When he called Andrew's name, he was soundly ignored. Irritated, Neil went to duck out from under Andrew's arm, and the jostling brought his attention back almost comically swiftly. He tightened his hold instead, bringing Neil closer.

"It was an accident. Stop it. I'm fine."

His jaw clenched. "That asshole should've watched where he was going."

"He's probably gone now," Neil reasoned. "And besides –” he lowered his voice, “– you caught me. Look at me. Nothing is wrong."

_ Nothing is wrong. _ Neil wasn't tricking him – he hadn't meant to use that phrase, it had just slipped out. They used to parrot it to each other on bad days or weird days that weren't irrecoverable. They used it as a code, as a sweet reassurance to the other.

It got Andrew's attention, but seemed to pull him away into his mind. He was staring at Neil like he was seeing him in another time, another life, gaze searing. They were both trapped between the known and the unknown. This was just one piece of an old puzzle fitting back in, a fold uncrinkled from some crumpled up paper. It hurt like a bone pushed back into place.

Eventually, he relented. "Fine," he spat.

The anger was gone as soon as he said it, or at least buried deep inside. Neil would figure out which it was later, but he felt a twinge of guilt at being another reason for Andrew to push down his feelings. He frowned, but Andrew didn't say another word. He quietly removed his arm from around Neil and brushed past him, leaving goosebumps in his wake where he'd pressed his hand against Neil's lower back.

Renee gave him a cryptic smile, and Neil immediately knew she understood something about what had happened. People didn't understand Andrew – they had a tendency to brush off what he did as psychotic and even downright monstrous. They never saw the ticks in his expression, how his eyes rarely gave him away but the shape of his mouth gave more clues. Once Andrew's career kicked off, the media had been just as infuriating as regular people were. Neil held himself at a distance to Exy now, but the headlines that came up often pissed him off. Even if he hadn't spoken to or seen Andrew for years, he knew it was false. He knew the man under that mask, and he knew his honesty.

Renee had been unobtrusive this whole time, a background presence, but Andrew said he shared this hobby with her. Something about her didn't add up, but Neil didn't care to find out right now – all he knew was that Renee understood, and Andrew trusted her. She was probably more like them than she seemed on her shiny, polished surface.

She tilted her head to the side, no doubt sizing him up just the same. In the end, she just jerked her chin towards the direction where Andrew had gone and said, "Let's go get some hot chocolate. It's tradition."

* * *

That same night, Neil stared at his phone and prepared himself to make a call. King was sitting in his lap, and he rubbed down her spine a few times to relax.

“Abram,” Andrew answered.

“Andrew. Hey,” Neil said. He let the silence build between them, then broke it. “I want to take a turn.”

“Okay.”

“Why did you guys sell the house?”

The silence on the other end may have been surprise.

“Nicky. He left. You know that Aaron and I were working things out around then. After you were taken, we spent senior year working our shit out, and then Wymack came along with his recruitment offer. Nicky took it hard when you disappeared, he tried not to show it but he was tired. So we got our shit together, sold the house, and shipped him back to Germany. Aaron and I just rented a place in the summer with the leftover money.”

Neil let it sink in. He wondered if one day he would talk to Nicky again, maybe tell him ‘thank you’ too. 

Andrew sucked in a breath on the other side. “Did you try the house?”

“Yes,” Neil said softly. He let his head fall back against the sofa, and said no more. 

Andrew cut the call himself.

* * *

"So," Allison said after a long break in the conversation. She patted the edge of her mouth primly with a napkin, and flicked her wrist towards him. "When are we going to talk about that?"

Neil leaned back, affronted. He crossed his arms and only kept his mouth shut to see what Andrew would say.

Nothing, it turns out.

Aaron huffed. "This is ridiculous. You –” he jabbed a finger at Neil. "You were a pain in the ass for two years. Go back to wherever you fucked off to."

"Aaron!" Dan said. She was clearly angry, but still held her composure together.

"I was invited here," Neil said dully. He hadn't even gotten to finish his salad.

Beside him, Andrew snorted softly. It was barely noticeable, but Neil's senses were quickly attuning themselves to him. The thought was a little bit terrifying, so he ignored it.

"So what I'm hearing is, you're some long lost ex? Or you dumped Andrew years ago, broke his heart, and now you're trying to get back with him because he's filthy rich and famous now?"

"Did we even listen to the same conversation," Matt muttered, eyes wide. He looked at Neil pitifully, which was a surprise. The Foxes weren't known to be apologetic or regretful.

"He's a fucking leech. He always was. That's not new," Aaron scoffed.

"I'm literally just eating a salad," Neil said. Nobody listened to him.

"Did you really dump Andrew?" Dan asked.

"He ran away!" Aaron cried. "There wasn't anything to break up, according to Andrew, but then why did you almost gut Nicky for bringing him up a year later?"

"Shut up!" Kevin yelled. Everyone stopped and looked at him for a second, and then resumed their cross examination of Neil.

He felt his head pounding. Making a good impression on the former Foxes had not been his number one priority – he had foolishly thought they would want nothing to do with him because it wasn’t their business. He had tagged along, again, because of Andrew's invitation and Renee's coaxing. He put a hand to his head, wanting to disappear.

"Stop," Andrew said. It's the first time he'd spoken since they got here, to Allison's garden brunch party. "You will leave him alone, or I will leave with him and you won't see either of us again."

"You can't –” Aaron started.

"He will," Neil cuts him off. "And you would absolutely fucking deserve it, Aaron."

"Fuck this," he said, getting out of his chair. He threw his napkin down and stormed off into the house. Renee went after him, patting Allison's shoulder as she too abandoned the party.

"Sorry," Matt said. "This is our time off and we're all supposed to be enjoying it."

"It's just like their freshman year. Never a quiet time with us," Dan quipped.

"It's fine," Neil said. "You're all just a bit nosy."

Allison barked out a laugh at that. "Okay, kid, you might just be worth keeping around."

He knew Allison Reynolds was as tough as nails, someone who liked to pick apart prey for fun but also someone who had no patience for stupid games. She was straight to the point and blunt, something he could appreciate. He thought of Renee telling him Andrew is her best friend, and thought he was starting to see she had a soft spot for troublemakers with good hearts.

Neil grinned, despite himself.

* * *

The thing about being away from the person you love, body and soul, for five whole years is that when you come back, and you've missed a lot of things. So you have to look for the clues and match up the new growth with the old picture you have of them, a familiar map that just expanded. And he was seeing the clues, matching things up, feeling he was doing an okay job, but other times the pieces just fell apart.

Like Aaron.

Neil flipped the page and landed on a set of photos from the twin's graduation. His stomach did a violent twist as he thought back to that time. It was just weeks after he was taken, and he could see it on them. Young and moody, tired. Burdened. Andrew looked barely kempt and like he was about to knock the camera out of Nicky's hands. He traced his face with his finger, like he could smooth out the wrinkle of his brow or the tired creases under his eyes.

He'd told Andrew he loved him and had left him with a few pictures and measly possessions, nothing more. Neil wondered about those pictures of him, if Andrew had kept them or burnt them when he'd given up on him. Both outcomes seemed equally likely, but looking at Andrew now, wrapped in a blanket and lamp light, he hoped sentimentality won out. Or revenge. Whichever one had kept his interest longer, so Neil wouldn't be forgotten.

The light outside Andrew's apartment was a dying blue over a melancholy looking city. Small orange and yellow lights flickered from buildings and cars, people bundled up in coats passing underneath. He put his head in his hand and watched as a huge Christmas tree was unloaded outside a fancy storefront, next to stacked boxes spilling decorations.

"Are you going to put a tree up?" he asked, turning his head away from the window.

Andrew looked up from his book. "It's not even Thanksgiving yet."

"Just a week, then," Neil said, going back to the album. His tea steamed away, swirling into visions in mist. He waved a hand over it, shooing the apparitions.

He asked Andrew about the photos, the ones he'd missed. He was piecing things together, stitching it into a timeline he understood. The further into the album he went, the more other people cropped up in the pictures. There was Kevin, and Renee. An older looking man with tribal tattoos, the Coach of his collegiate team who'd taken a chance on both Minyards and took them from their cousin's hands. Sometimes Allison appeared in the background, and in his college graduation there was a plump, bespectacled woman next to Andrew, smiling like a mother.

He wondered how he fit into this. If Andrew had thrown out those old pictures of him, nobody would know from this album that he'd ever been a part of his story. He picked at the edges of his sweater’s sleeve, wishing it didn't sting so much that he could be so easily erased. He hadn't been real back then, but Andrew had made him real. Nicky and Aaron too. Their makeshift family.

Soft footsteps fell behind him, and then a thick weight landed on his shoulders. It was a blanket, still warm from Andrew's own body heat.

"Yes or no?" he asked, hands hovering over his shoulders.

"Yes," Neil whispered.

Andrew smoothed the blanket out over him, wrapping him up and then massaging him with wide, sure fingers. The pressure he was using had Neil sinking in his chair, feeling boneless and captured by the sensation.

"Andrew," he whimpered.

"Yes?" His breath fanned out against Neil's neck. He pushed his fingers down in a spot that made him want to lie down and close his eyes.

"When I left... When I was  _ taken _ , there were photos I left." He paused. "Do you... I didn't see any of them in this album."

"They're not here."

Neil sucked in a breath.

"I put them somewhere I didn't have to see them," he admitted. "I think at some point, Nicky stole them from me. They're all up in here anyway," he said, tapping Neil's head.

Andrew's memory was longer than any of them could ever live to be. Old memories were trapped in plastic for him, just as vivid and colourful years later. If he ever thought about their old days or past moments, he didn't let it on, seemingly a lot cooler than Neil. But he still saw the dark circles under his eyes, and the tension when he turned his back from Neil. All the little parts of him that still reacted to this. Andrew was good at hiding his hurt.

Andrew’s perfect hands left his shoulders, squeezing down one last time before pulling out the chair next to him at the table. He sat down sideways, one elbow propped on the table and the other over the back of the chair. The glow from the fireplace lit his hair up from behind, a blonded halo.

"Why Columbia? When the FBI let you go, you could have gone anywhere. Why back here?"

Two years after he'd gone missing, the last of his father's circle had been wiped out. The FBI were done with him and he'd given them all they needed for the remaining trials, so they let him go with 'Neil Josten' now a real identity. He'd traced his old paths across the map, even tried throwing darts and picking a place, but he could never make himself follow through. The appeal of Columbia lay in the unfinished business he had there, the parts of a life he'd actually like to reclaim. He told Andrew as much, the story of how he went from the FBI's custody to here. How he'd watched Andrew's career from afar when he dared to turn ESPN on.

“You told me you didn’t choose to leave, but you also chose not to come back even though you said you knew where I was.”

"You were in Palmetto then... I tried the house but it was sold. I got on the highway once and made it halfway to Palmetto before I had to stop and throw up, and then I didn't try again,” Neil said, remembering how awful that attempt had been. He’d been badly triggered and thought he was going to die again.

Andrew had been the best thing to happen to him in his short life, but he was still Mary's son at the end of the day. He'd never known how to leave anything properly, always a hastily cut string and fleeing in the night, discarding false personalities. He'd never been taught how to do anything right, if he could keep something that he didn't break it would have been through sheer luck or the mettle of whoever he held on to. The truth was frustratingly simple: he didn't know how to let go. And he didn't know how to hold on.

"What would you have done if I'd shown up in Palmetto? Or if Nicky had stayed and I showed up at the house?"

Andrew paused, his own mug of tea halfway to his mouth. He covered his mouth with his knuckles and furrowed his brow, looking into Neil's eyes.

"I don't know," he admitted. "90% of the time I thought of you at all, I would think of finishing what your father started. Because I wanted to make an example out of you for tearing pieces out of me when you lied and disappeared."

"And the other 10%?" Neil asked. He inched his hand towards Andrew's elbow.

"I wanted you back where nobody could touch you," he confessed. He brought his hand up to Neil's collarbone, stroking the skin and digging his thumb in. "I wanted to blame myself for it. I wondered what scared you so bad you couldn't tell me the truth."

Neil shuddered.

"I wanted to go back to you. I didn't know if I could have you again, but I wanted to be here until I made my mind up for sure. I don't think I ever really did, somehow the days just blurred and then three years had gone by. And now I am Columbia, and Columbia is me. I have my own life here now."

Andrew nodded, taking it for what it was. Neil had inched closer and closer to Andrew while they were talking, while Andrew's hand still lingered near his shoulder. The force of it pressing down on him felt like an anchor, not yet a ' _ stay _ ' but definitely a ' _ don't go _ '.

"So much sentimentality for a man who used to say the only thing he knew was cut and run," Andrew mused, eyes narrowed but light. "He still doesn't add up."

Neil huffed out a laugh and had to agree.

It was true – Neil had moved back to Columbia out of a misplaced sense of nostalgia and attachment. That had been at the beginning. Some small, desperate part of him hoped to catch Andrew somewhere again, even though he didn't believe in fate or luck – except the bad sort. It had been a part of him frozen in time, and he already knew it was a lost hope since that version of him had been cruelly ripped from his life and destroyed, but was desperate. He had nothing, nowhere to go, no meaning or purpose. Staying in Columbia meant being close to the best part of his life that he'd had, and he would come back again and again to relive it even without the others, no matter how much it hurt.

That had been the beginning, anyway. Now Columbia was a part of him as much as he was a part of it, and that had nothing to do with Andrew Minyard anymore. Nothing to do with a lost boy's fleeting chance at love or a safe life. Sometimes though, moments like these, he wondered at how time had thrown them all about and scattered them in ways nobody would have ever known. 17 year old Neil, happy in Andrew's arms in their last good moments before he went off to college, would never have guessed it. But that Neil had also believed he'd go to his grave before his own father.

"Yeah," Neil sighed. The word evaporated in their shared silence, two bowed heads in the firelight like their reminiscing was a prayer. 

The sky was pitch black outside, the room cast in long shadows from the soft light of the fireplace and lamps. He felt warm all over and syrupy-slow, hidden from winter in their small sanctuary. Neil had forgotten what warmth felt like, how body heat and touch could soothe. It had been a long time of staying on his guard and being alone, regressing into the surviving he'd known for most of his nobody life. He wondered how that had been spun and shattered before his eyes in just a matter of weeks. Having Andrew back was like opening a door and stepping into a familiar place. He could spend weeks relearning everything here.

He bit his lip and felt Andrew's burning gaze move down to look at his mouth. Both of them were pink with shyness, not touching but just looking. With every breath he could smell Andrew's cologne, and he let it fill up his mind and push away every other thought.

* * *

"Why are there lights," Aaron scoffed. "You never put up lights."

Neil hadn't heard him come in. He'd been busy taping more fairy lights to Andrew's kitchen cupboards.

"Maybe the ghosts of Christmas came to talk to me in my sleep. They sounded like Wymack. 'Get your head out of your ass and liven up a bit.'"

"You're so full of shit, Andrew. You're even wearing that dumb fucking sweater. Don't tell me this was your boytoy's doing," he warned. 

He heard him stop at the kitchen door abruptly, cursing aloud. Neil placed the final piece of tape on the string of lights and turned them on, smiling at Aaron when he was finished. 

"So much better. You Minyards have forgotten how to live without Nicky around."

Aaron narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't talk like you're not the one to blame for that."

"Blaming me for all your issues isn't going to solve them. It didn’t work the first time you tried, and won’t work again. Denial looks really dumb on you, Aaron."

Aaron grabbed him by the collar and snarled his name, but he was snatched back by a livid looking Andrew who had followed the raised voices.

"If anything, I'm to thank. I wonder how long it would have taken you both to get your heads out of your asses if I hadn't come along and made you change your deal."

He wasn't even trying to brag or taunt. He had intervened back then because he was trying to help. The twins had been tearing each other apart in a cold war, and everyone else was getting dragged into their explosive mess. They went to college without Nicky and didn't implode purely because of the work they'd put in from junior year and senior year to not cling so hard that they'd drag each other down.

Aaron didn't have anything to say to that. He tamped down on his rage, staring holes into Neil's face. "Just because Andrew forgave you, doesn't mean we're all so gullible. I don't trust you for a fucking second," he spat.

Andrew forcefully turned him around and shoved. "Get your fucking attitude out of my apartment, asshole. You know nothing."

"Bastard," Aaron called, walking down the hall with his middle finger up.

Andrew closed the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms. He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know what's more pathetic, his hair-trigger temper or your inability to put a filter on your mouth."

"My mouth is probably the only part of me that most people like," Neil grinned. "Well, when I'm not talking shit, that is. People literally pay me to sing, you know."

Andrew flicked a bored look up and down his body, then settled on his mouth again. "Regretfully, I almost agree with you."

Neil pressed his lips together, trying to hide his smile. He went back to check on the lights he'd put up in the kitchen, poking around the box of decorations to see if he should add anything. Andrew didn't follow, but that was okay. He'd given Neil free reign over decorating for the holidays, and since his place was so much bigger than Neil's, he'd gone all out. Putting lights up was never a priority before, but this year felt different. He was itching out of his skin and wanted something new.

Aaron lived on the floor underneath this one. The building was short but spacious, and the area was more secluded than other parts of the city. He and Katelyn lived here permanently since they ran a practice in a children's health clinic in the city. Andrew had bought out the top floor and Aaron's floor with cash, but he only came here during the offseason for Exy. Katelyn and Aaron's conservative choice in decorations looked ridiculous compared to Andrew's apartment, where every surface was covered in some kind of frosty or glowy decoration, but it looked pretty in the evening with some candles. Much less boring and lonely than the one downstairs.

Neil found a Christmas tree decoration with a lewd shape in the box. He wasn't that amused, but he thought Andrew might be, so he went in search of him and found him lying on his own bed, spread eagled with his eyes closed.

"Do you want to put this dick on your tree?" Neil asked quietly, not wanting to break his moment of peace.

Andrew opened an eye, gesturing a 'come here' with one arm. Neil strode to the bed and perched on the side, fingers clutching the soft white comforter. He handed over the dick ornament.

"Put it on Aaron's," he said, closing his eyes again.

"Sure thing."

A beat of silence.

"Aaron is full of shit," Andrew grunts. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

"He's trying to look out for you. It would probably work out a little better if he didn't try to hit everything that bothered him."

"Neither of you can master any ounce of patience, that's why you're in that mess with him."

"Don't speak now, you were ready to beat a man up for brushing past me too hard at the ice rink," Neil teased, lying down to play with Andrew's fingers.

"I would do it again," Andrew promised, lacing their fingers together.

"Hypocrite."

Andrew squeezed his hand. "Liar."

"Match made in heaven," Neil said with a dramatic sigh and pout. Andrew pressed cold fingers down the collar of his shirt and Neil screamed, rolling off the bed.

"Go back to your dick baubles," Andrew muttered, closing his eyes and nodding off to sleep.

Neil worried his face was going to be stuck in a grin.

* * *

Sara frowned as Neil knocked on her door. She had King bundled up in her arms, snoozing.

"You're out a lot these days," she says, handing King over.

There wasn't a question in her words, so he said nothing. He just rubbed King Fluffkin's furry head and nodded, ready to leave.

"Neil, stop," she said. "What's up?"

She had been his manager for three years, but they didn't interact much beyond emails and setting gigs up. He was only part of the winter holiday rotation anyway, that was his specialty. He'd thought of trying in summer too, but he'd have to sacrifice his day job for it, and with the infrequent paychecks it wasn't worth more than just doing it for the holidays for some extra cash.

"Nothing," he lied. "I have more night shifts now since we're short staffed, I don't want to leave King alone then."

She was sweet, but he didn't want to share anything about his personal life. He was doing just fine without that. He made it through one heartbreak only because he'd almost died, if other people ruined what he had with Andrew this time, he didn't know if he would survive it.

She nodded, then hesitated. "If there's anything you need –”

"I know," he said. "I know. Thanks for watching her, Sara."

"No problem. Have a good night."

He pulled his hood up, placed a sleepy and docile King in her carrier, then took the elevator down. He didn't have a car, so he'd have to walk back home. He'd put blankets in for King and held her carrier close to his chest while he walked, almost running until he nearly slipped. He cursed and looked up, then stopped in surprise when something wet landed on his nose. He gazed up at the sky, and another almost landed in his eye.

It was snowing. In Columbia. The lights on the bare trees seemed to float in the dark, while the lamps turned hazy as more snow tumbled down thickly. It looked pretty, with barely anyone in the street and the sounds of the city muffled from around the block.

He made it home safely and walked slowly so they didn't slip, and the second he got inside he turned the heating up and let King out onto the carpet. She immediately curled up near the heater. He shrugged his jacket and shoes off and went to make some hot tea, not able to resist putting his hands over the steam to thaw them. It was a bad habit, but this place was fucking cold and Neil had never hated it anymore than he did these days. It was miserable.

Sitting down with his tea a few minutes later, he pulled on a blanket and took his phone out. He pressed dial and got an answer within a few seconds.

"Andrew?" he said.

"Neil. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he breathed. "Hey, look outside. Tell me what you see."

He heard shuffling and a sigh. "What am I looking for?" Andrew said.

Neil frowned. "Is it not snowing on your side of the city?"

"Oh," Andrew said. "You're right. It's snowing."

He grinned. "Isn't it gorgeous? I haven't seen snow in years!"

"Yeah," Andrew agreed. He didn’t say much more, but there was a waver in his voice like awe.

Neil knew Andrew was playing for Boston, but he didn’t always stay for winter there, especially since that was the Exy offseason. He was probably used to the snow, but it doesn't get any less pretty when the first snow of the season came.

King purred loudly under the heater, and Neil imagined he could also hear Andrew's steady breathing from his phone.

"Will you sing something?" Andrew murmurs, sliding his request softly into the silence.

Neil thought about it, and then the perfect song came to mind.

_ "Remember when you'd sing just for the fuck of it? _

_ Any joy it would bring, honey, the look of it _

_ Was as sweet as the sound." _

He crooned into the dark as they stared out their windows, trying to feel together when they were on opposite sides of the city. The song flowed out of his mouth sweetly even without any music, his voice riding softly on the waves of its melody.

" _ You don't have to sing it right _

_ But who could call you wrong? _

_ To put your emptiness to melody _

_ Your awful heart to song _

_ You don't have to sing it nice, but honey sing it strong _

_ At best, you'll find a little remedy _

_ At worst, the world will sing along." _

He was happy to keep singing for Andrew till they almost fell asleep by the window. He hoped when Andrew put his head down on his pillow, that he would imagine Neil right there with him, singing it just for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song Neil sings is 'to noise making' by hozier
> 
> ty for reading <3


	3. PART III: make you wanna give all that shit up, spend that time on us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vacation time! and maybe they will finally kiss

A few weeks later during a reluctant lunch outing, Allison lobbed an invitation at him.

He blinked down at the card, which was really just a formality because Allison enjoyed pointless and cute things. The front was elegant and the card had gold trim and glittery, gauzy, mini bows. It cordially invited him to Allison's winter lodge in the Blue Ridge mountains for Christmas and New Year's Eve celebrations with the 'fox fam'. He looked up when he was done reading, and she gestured for him to turn it over, so he did.

There was a picture of Santa loading up the sleigh, and speech bubbles of all the reindeers around him calling him a hoe.

Andrew leaned in to see, and snorted. Of course it was funny to him. Neil thought it was crass, but it suited Allison. Her duality was intriguing as it was unexpected, and he thought maybe he understood now why Renee hung out with the three of them the most.

"Isn't this offensive to Christians?" Neil asked, gesturing at Renee's cross necklace.

"I have a sense of humour," she responded good-naturedly.

Neil thought that meant she probably laughs at stuff she shouldn't, and he couldn't help but respect her more for being honest about it.

"So?" Allison asked.

"Um," he hesitated. He wasn't sure what he did to earn an invite, because it seemed to be a holiday for her closest friends and family. "I don't know."

"Do you have something better to do around Christmas? Renee tells me you don't have any family. Ouch," she said, rubbing the spot where Renee jabbed her with her elbow.

"No, I don't think so."

He normally would, but he turned down most of the gigs Sara had found for him, giving her a flimsy excuse for it. The truth was that he was spending most of his time with Andrew, and he didn't regret it at all. The money from Allison's party was stretching far enough for him.

"Why am I invited?" he asked.

"Because you guys are dating!" Allison says, clapping her hands. "I wouldn't want to separate you two. Plus you're so cute and grumpy, I need to take pictures of you having real fun. And I know Matt and Dan want to baby you so hard."

He pretended to not hear the last part, and looked at Andrew sideways. He was concentrating on cutting his sandwich methodically into tiny bite-sized pieces, no help forthcoming. Technically, they hadn't defined anything. They hadn't even defined anything five years ago, not interested in labels, and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

They weren't dating, though. They hadn't kissed once in the time they had been reunited, though Neil wouldn't say he was interested in rushing it. He loved Andrew, kissing or not, dating or not.

"I'll think about it," he said, settling for evasiveness.

"He'll be there," Andrew said.

"Oh," Neil said. He turned back to Allison, cheeks pink. "I'll be there."

She had been watching their mini exchange like a hawk, but a genuine smile took the place of her smirk as she glanced meaningfully at Renee.

"Of course you will," she said, raising her glass to him, dimples out as she smiled and took a sip.

* * *

Neil was lazing around Andrew's living room on December 19th when Kevin came knocking. Andrew was at a meeting with his team for a holiday fundraiser event, and Neil had just brought King over to acclimate to Andrew's place since he was already spending so much time here.

"Hi," Neil said. "Andrew's not here. He'll be back in the evening."

"I know, I'm here for you," Kevin said, eyeing his clothes.

He was in one of Andrew's sweaters because they smelled like him and were big and cosy, and reindeer printed pyjama bottoms, which were a desperate purchase after King had shredded his last pair.

"Um."

"Allison told me to get you ready for the trip."

"Okay?"

"Change into something decent if you even own anything casual that isn't hideous. We're getting you proper clothes so you don't fuck the pictures up or die from exposure."

Kevin was brash and forceful, and it made Neil want to dig his heels in after being insulted.

"Everything I have is fine," Neil insisted.

"Absolutely not," Kevin argued. "And don't bother with any excuses, even Andrew is tired of your outfits."

Neil eyed him suspiciously, but relented. He hated shopping, but apparently Andrew had made a guide on clothes that were nice that Neil might actually consider wearing, so half the work was already done. At least it wouldn't be like shopping with Nicky all those years ago, who would make him try on a mountain of things he didn't like.

Kevin took him downtown to a small row of expensive boutiques. He never bothered with venturing into this part of the city because it had nothing for him. According to Kevin, the selection available was 'pathetic', but they didn't have the time to go out of state to get something else. Meanwhile, Neil just wanted to buy a pair of jeans that weren't in danger of tearing at the ass.

It wasn't so bad. Neil felt a bit like King at the groomer for how he was poked and prodded at, getting sized up and trying on one or two things while the rest were all picked out for him simply based on the measurements. A lot of it was black or neutral, muted tones, but they looked nothing like the faded jeans and shirts he owned. He cringed at the bill at the counter, but Kevin had his credit card out before anyone could say a word about the price. He realised just then how he’d found himself accidentally being adopted by a bunch of rich assholes.

They picked up hot chocolate from one of the bakeries Andrew liked on the way back, and then talked Exy until Andrew came home.

Andrew groaned. "Kevin, stop poisoning him with stickball."

"He was already into it, and you never mentioned it once!" Kevin said, betrayed.

"I hear enough about that idiotic sport during the season, we're OFF now for a reason."

Andrew rolled his eyes, looking bored of them. He flopped back onto the sofa and crossed his arms, almost pouting. He looked hot when he was mad, Neil thought. And then he abruptly had to look at the carpet because his heart was doing something silly and he hated it.

Kevin left a while later with a clear order to make sure he brought all of their purchases with him on the trip. Neil sat on the carpet with his legs out, leaning back on his hands while Andrew made them spicy hot chocolate. King was sitting under the tree, probably thinking of evil things to do when they weren't looking, and Neil took a minute to realise how much he felt at home. He felt comfortable, dressed again in a soft sweater that smelled like Andrew. It was so domestic and natural, reminding him of the house they used to share in Columbia and messing around on the weekends.

"Neil," Andrew said, snapping him out of his stupor. He waved a mug under his nose, and then pushed it into his hands. It was tempting to put the mug up to his face to warm it up a little, but he feared Andrew would call him a heat fiend and insult his cold hands and feet again.

"You looked like you were frying your brain thinking that hard," Andrew said, sitting beside him.

King wandered up and tried to dip her paws in their drinks, and Neil swore he saw Andrew's bored mask break to give her a smile.

"I was just remembering," Neil said. "Nothing's wrong."

"Remembering good or bad?"

"Good," Neil said, staring up at the ceiling. He swallowed hard and tried to steady his voice. "I feel safe here."

Andrew reached a warm hand out, wrapping it around the back of Neil's neck. Neil grounded himself with it and spoke again. 

"We never used to call this anything. But we're older now. What is this, Andrew?"

He squeezed his nape, searching for words. "I don't know. You know how I feel about the stupid words everyone else uses. None of it matters."

"I know," Neil said. He agreed with Andrew on that – those words would never come close to describing anything they had. "But can you tell me something else?"

He watched his question create a play of emotions on Andrew's face, the slight jerk of confusion and then the determination from understanding. He didn't know when he'd become romantic or hopeful to hear something, whatever this was. Or maybe it wasn't that, maybe he just knew Andrew. Knew what he'd say now.

"Neil," he said, hand on his neck. "Stay."

"Of course. I want to stay with you."

Their faces were close, so close they could kiss. Just a nudge forward. But they hesitated, old fears pulling them apart. Their last kiss had been promptly followed by loss. They had danced around the physical part of their thing this whole time, but now they were both acknowledging they couldn't do it. Not yet. But he knew he'd take whatever Andrew gave him, and Andrew would do the same for him. Instead, he simply leaned his head on Andrew’s shoulder and they stayed there, watching King play about the room until the fire had died down to its embers and only the glow of the tree remained.

* * *

Neil's apartment had never looked so empty and sad. It had its issues, but he'd never hated it or felt like it wasn't his. These days, it seemed more and more like a temporary residence, even though it housed all his possessions from the last three years.

He'd left King with Aaron and Katelyn, since they were staying in Columbia for the holidays. Aaron had gotten over himself, at least enough to accept Neil’s cat into his custody. Now all he had to do was pack his stuff, and Andrew would pick him up.

A few days ago he'd returned to his apartment with his bag, feeling strange and clinical. He'd opened his bag to do his laundry, and sitting right on top of his other clothes was a little plastic bag containing the sweater he stole from Andrew, the one he’d wear around his place all the time because it smelled like him. He hadn't packed it himself. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, but he'd slept with it by his pillow for the past few nights here alone. The smell of Andrew was still there, just a little bit faded now.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

**Andrew:** _ outside. come down. _

He put his shoes and switched the lights and everything off, rushing down the stairs with his duffle bag full of clothes. It was 5:30AM, so outside was pitch black except for the city lights. His own street was somewhat barren of magic and cheer, but just around the block there were plenty of lights still shimmering and sparking up. Andrew leaned against his maserati in a thick jacket and heavy boots, waiting for him in the chilly air. He let Neil put his bag in the trunk, brushed his hand by his ass, and then sat in the driver's seat to wait for him.

"Go slow," Neil said once he was sitting inside.

Andrew slanted him a bored look. "You are  _ not _ going to tell me how to drive my own car."

"We'll get there whenever, just don't be a speed demon."

"You're starting to sound like Kevin."

"I do  _ not _ . Do not try to use reverse psychology on me."

Andrew smirked as he made a turn. "I would never."

They bantered and messed with each other for most of the way, though Andrew did stop talking to him for half an hour when he fed him the nuts from the trail mix instead of the chocolate pieces, opting to pout in silence until Neil put on some music and sang along. 

“ _ I watched you turn yourself to a made man _

_ All the little things that make you _

_ You can count the ways that I stay down _

_ Can't nobody tell me I ain't true” _

Andrew offered his hand to him in the middle of the chorus, open over the gearshift. Neil laced their fingers together, singing smoothly.

“ _ Make you wanna give all that shit up _

_ Make you wanna leave that world behind  _

_ Make you wanna see your name on mine _

_ Make you wanna give all that shit up _

_ All that shit up _ ”

As he finished, he pulled out the camera he found in Andrew's closet. He had fiddled with it and found that it was painfully underused, resolving to get some use out of it.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" Andrew grumbled.

"Yes, dear," Neil teased. "You look beautiful and terrifying, jeez."

"Idiot."

Neil just laughed and took another picture.

* * *

Allison was there to greet them when they arrived.

"Neil! Don't you look gorgeous. Kevin did a good job with the clothes."

"Thanks," Neil said, despite feeling awkward. "Andrew told me what to wear. He said I couldn't be trusted to pair it up right."

"You're a disaster. Come on. Let me show you guys your room. I got you a giant queen sized bed, I hope that's fine? Renee told me not to assume. We can change it if it's a bother."

The room was huge and spacious, paneled with dark wood. The bed was the biggest one he'd ever seen, and he and Andrew weren't exactly big. He glanced at Andrew, but he voiced no objection, so they accepted the keys and put their stuff down.

He lay back on the bed and waited for Andrew to finish in the bathroom. He looked tired when he came out, and Neil yawned, feeling sleepy suddenly.

"Want to nap?"

Andrew nodded, not bothering to speak much. But before Neil got in with him, he asked, "Yes or no?"

"Yes."

He climbed in, the bed sinking where he placed his weight. The last thing he saw as he fell asleep was Andrew's face, soft and vulnerable with his eyes closed. He almost looked cute. Neil yawned again, and then slept dreamlessly.

* * *

"Did you get a picture? Oh my god."

"If Andrew finds out, you're going to lose an organ. Stop it."

"Lighten up, Day, for fuck's sake."

Neil yawned as he woke up, and heard a gasp. He decided he wanted to ruin their fun.

"If you’re all done, now," he said.

Beside him with his back to the others, Andrew was also awake. He had a hand curled under Neil's pillow, having accidentally moved closer during their nap. It was night time now, and Neil guessed from the faces peering into the door that was cracked open that everyone had arrived.

"Your people are here," he told him, stretching and then snuggling back into the pillow where Andrew's hand was. He felt drowsy and wanted to sleep more.

"They're not my people," Andrew grumbled back, voice deep and soft.

Neil giggled, still stretching out his limbs.

"Did he just giggle?" someone outside said.

"I can hear you all loud and clear," Neil interrupted. "You might want to try signing instead."

The door swung open, and everyone peered in. Renee and Allison had enough dignity to leave, but Kevin stared at them in shock.

"Are you two  _ together _ ?"

Neil sat up at that. "Kevin. We're married. You came to the wedding."

"How did I forget – wait, no. You're messing with me."

"You little shit," Andrew said, wrapping a thick arm across Neil's stomach. He pressed his face into the side of his thigh. "You'll give him an aneurysm."

His voice was still sleep-rough, and Neil shivered at the vibrations against his leg. He was soft and pliant and his body had a better memory than he did, so he hoped for his own dignity that Andrew would let go, or that his body would stop responding to his touch so sensitively.

Someone else joined them at the door.

"Hey guys," Matt said, gripping the door jamb. "Kevin," he nodded, exchanging a fist bump with him.

"Ooh, honey, I think we should let them get decent before we bother them," Dan said, appearing behind Matt. She had her arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him from behind. He blushed at her words, giving them a sheepish smile as they left.

"Day," Andrew said, sitting up now. "Get lost."

Kevin scrambled away, slamming the door shut behind him.

"They're ridiculous," Neil said, grinning.

"I hate them," Andrew muttered. He threw Neil a warning glare when he realised there was another smartass comeback on his tongue.

This trip was already off to a good start.

* * *

They spent the first few days all going about their own fun, going down to the village for food or activities, or up the peaks for some snowy mountain climbing and snowboarding. Neil had gotten some really great pictures of Allison coming down the slope in her fancy-ass pink gear. There were horses in the stables too, but the woodland area was too wet and icy for it to be safe, so they skipped that. Andrew and Neil separated from the group for a while to take a walk around one of the trails, hand in hand. There were beautiful birds and trees he got to take pictures of, and one photo he particularly loved of his feet next to Andrew’s in the snow.

By the time Christmas morning rolled around, they were all too tired to want to go anywhere and opted to stay in and play games after they exchanged presents. Neil got a fancy new coat and scarf from Matt and Dan, a box-set of the movie series Kevin wanted him to try, a toy for King, and a colourful pair of ice skates from Allison and Renee, signed with the logo of Allison's design house. He gave the rest the small presents he could afford, mostly quality food items and candid photographs in frames of the lot of them. They ruffled his hair when they saw them and Matt gave him a heavy clap on his shoulder, pulling him into an airtight hug that Andrew had to break up.

"So what did you guys get each other?" Allison asked, tossing her blonde braid over her shoulder. She looked soft and sweet in a pastel pink cashmere sweater and light makeup, hair loosely styled.

Neil looked at Andrew, feeling awkward about it now. He'd put together a few photos of Andrew in a handmade album with his own writing and sketches, and put it over a tin of gourmet hot chocolate mix. He didn't think Andrew would get him much, and when he took out a small black box in their room, he figured it was a watch or something.

He couldn't tell them Andrew had bought him a whole fucking  _ car. _ There were keys to a car he'd never seen in person in that box, and a picture of it in the dealership. It wasn’t black like Andrew’s, but grey and sleek in a way that screamed expensive. He'd been so mortified that Andrew had actually spent that much money on him that his voice had gotten stuck and he just threw himself into his arms once he'd asked for permission.

"Aww, baby, why are you blushing?" Allison asked. Her smile was nefarious.

He glared at her. "I'm not. It's just warm in here. We didn't get each other anything."

"Really?" she asked, eyebrow quirked. "That's unconventional, but okay. You do you."

He didn't know if she really believed that, but as long as the subject was dropped it was enough. He couldn't even talk about it to Andrew, of all people. He was really hoping to put it off until they had to pick it up from the dealership, and he still had at least a week till then. He didn’t know if he wanted to throttle Andrew or jump into his arms for it.

Nobody really seemed to buy his lie, but at least they had moved on from talking about it. Neil got swept up in a game of Cards Against Humanity, while Andrew and Renee sat at the kitchen bar with some hot chocolate, nerding out about some films that Neil had never heard of. 

Later, around midnight when most of them had gone to bed, Neil sat a little bit tipsy from some Irish hot chocolate, face aflame in the yellow-lighted kitchen while Andrew whipped up dessert for just the two of them. His gaze strayed to his arms when he got out the chopping board, and focused intensely on the smear of whipped cream by his lip when he piped something over the bowls.

"I want to kiss you," he blurted out. "Wait –"

He got up, a little panicked. He hadn't meant to say that, but the alcohol had robbed him even more of his few filters. Somehow, his face pinked even further. Before he could run away, he was intercepted.

"Hey, wait," Andrew said. He crowded him against the cupboard, pushing him away from the door, but leaned back to give him space. 

"Neil, yes or no?"

"To kissing? Yes."

Andrew brought his chocolate stained fingers up to cup his face, delightfully cool against his heated skin, and Neil pressed a hand to his chest over his heart. He closed his eyes tight and waited, feeling Andrew's breath against his lips, his skin and muscle and heartbeat under his hand.

He jolted at the first touch, the light, questing press of it. He sighed, and just as quickly as it had started, it was over.

Neil opened his eyes, light-headed and shaky but not from the alcohol or the heat, but because Andrew was right there, and he had kissed him.

"Again," he whispered, and Andrew obliged him.

They kissed, and it all came rushing back in the prettiest picture of feelings and first times, two years of peace and safety for boys who’d never had a chance at that. And this was the sequel, Neil hoped, the door that opened into forever. He never wanted to let Andrew go again.

* * *

The glass fell and exploded on the floor. Kevin stood dumbstruck, staring at them from the door.

"I'll just, er –”

Neil had never seen a grown man look so small and helpless as Kevin did then, tipsy and fearing for his life as though Andrew would even want to consider leaving Neil's warm embrace, his perfect kisses.

"He's a fool," Neil laughed, hands in Andrew's hair. "Shouldn't we clean up the glass?"

Andrew pretended to consider it. He shoved the two bowls into Neil's hands, told him to hold steady, and then lifted him up with one arm around his back, the other under his knees. Neil gasped, trying to balance the desert against his chest.

"I think we can leave it to him," he said, carrying Neil over the glass and into their room.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song neil sings here is 'bad news' by kehlani
> 
> thank you for reading till the end! also idk why every conversation with kevin is so brainless... it's so funny to me. if you enjoyed, please leave a kudos and a comment if you can! tysm

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter here  
> find me on tumblr [here](https://nightlyvoidforecast.tumblr.com/)
> 
> leave a kudos and comment if you enjoyed! ty 💛


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